I need answers.
Not necessarily revenge, although I’ll take that too.
I can’t think past what I’ll do when I figure out my answers.
I listen carefully and hear Mason sleeping in the other room. The faint sound of the old television blares and skips. I’m surprised the television still works.
I need to get out of here to get my answers.
But where?
First clothes, then where.
I go to the rod in the corner of the room that holds my old clothes. I stare at them. I don’t want to put them on, but I need to if I don’t want to get arrested or sent to a psych ward.
And I need them to cover my body. My scars and bruises need to be covered.
I pull on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. It’s summer, but it’s the only thing that will hide my body.
I run a brush through my midnight black hair and leave it down, even though it descends far down my back almost to my butt. It needs to be cut; the ends are uneven and frayed. It would look better up, but I need my hair down to cover my neck and cheeks. Now people will only notice the bruises on my face if I look up.
I take a step, and the jeans fall off my hips.
Shit.
I rummage through my drawers until I find a belt.
The clothes itch and burn against my skin, but I don’t take them off.
Shoes.
I need shoes.
I try on tennis shoes, closed-toe shoes, flip-flops, even heels; but I can’t. It’s too much for my feet. They all feel like a vice grip.
People go barefoot in Miami all the time; this is a beach town after all. Hopefully, no one will notice my feet.
I open my door and listen carefully. Mason is still asleep.
I tiptoe through the small trailer, ensuring my feet don’t make a sound.
I should feel bad for leaving Mason without talking and without a note. A reasonable person would, but I don’t have feelings anymore. Those were taken.
I get to the door, knowing this is the most dangerous part. I could wake him up, and then how would I leave without him following?
I touch the handle and pry it open inch by inch.
The creak softens, and I stare intently at Mason. He’s out. Exhausted from trying to take care of me and break through my walls—walls no one will ever knock down.
When I’m outside, I breathe again.
I’m free, at least of Mason.
Now, where?
I rack my brain, thinking hard for the first time in forever. My mind is foggy, and it hurts to use, but the thought finally comes to me. Where the most dangerous people in town go…
Surrender.